Italy's Car
by mysoxlike2party
Summary: Germany agrees to help fix Italy's old car. Who knew fixing a car could get so erotic? Well, erotic in Italy's dirty mind


**Anime**: Axis Powers Hetalia  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Pretty damn sure Italy's OOC here. Which doesn't bother me, cuz I hate Italy in-character. He is hella annoying! I like him better as a dirty pervert to Germany.  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Obvious ItalyxGermany. I dunno if this is fluff. No it's not. EFF fluff, this is some dark twisted shit, without the smut.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Me no own this  
><strong>Notes<strong>: I'm not a freaking J.K. Rowling and I don't wanna be, I've been writing for a while, not that long, but I still think my writing is kinda eeeeh... ALSO, this came to me from a picture I saw on pixiv. If you saw it you'd know how it inspired me 8D

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><p>Italy was never a hands-on kind of guy. Except when it came to the ladies. He was very <em>hands-on<em> there. But when it came to things like… fixing stuff… fixing cars… He'd rather just leave matters to good ole' Germany, as usual.

The car was given to him a while back as a gift from some country… he doesn't even remember which one. He just left it in his garage, collecting dust, never bothering to take it out for a spin. The day he decided to take it out, only because he realized that ladies dig men in cool cars, it wouldn't seem to function properly. That's when he decided to call Germany up and see if he could fix it.

And so Germany agreed to help fix his car, as he had some car-repair experience under his belt. Germany arrived wearing a wifebeater, and his usual pants and boots. He lifted open the hood of the car and began inspecting, leaning over a bit. Italy stood a few feet behind him, bored, not knowing what to do as Germany fixed his car. He started looking up at the sky, then looking down at the grass, and then began watching a pretty little butterfly flutter around. Italy was having a joyous time watching the butterfly fly as it pleased, that is, until it flew by— Germany's ass. Remember that Germany was leaning over, so Italy got a fine view of the German's _derrière_. So Italy stared, biting his lower lip, not even trying to suppress any perverted thoughts he without a doubt had in his mind. He wasn't snapped out of his gay delusion until Germany yelled Italy's name.

"Hey, Italy! Get over here!" Hollered Germany, motioning him over. Italy snapped back to reality and walked over to Germany's side. "I think I figured out the problem. If I'm right, I should have this fixed for you by today. So look at this, the gauge… "

Italy attempted to listen to Germany, he really did, but his eyes wandered and were soon drawn to Germany's crotch area. There was something there alright, something big. Italy gulped and again let his mind be drowned into the deepest part of the gutter there was. It wasn't until Germany called his name again that he was again brought back to reality.

"Italy! Are you even listening to me?" observed Germany.

"Huh? Oh, I am listening to you! I heard everything'a you said!" the Italian insisted. The German raised and eyebrow and told Italy he was going to attempt to remove the part that needs replacing, as he had a spare in his toolbox.

"So it's going to be fixed today? Oh, that's'a nice…" remarked Italy. He was actually a bit disappointed Germany was going to be able to fix it so quickly.

"So I'm just going to pull this piece out… and replace it with an extra I have." Explained Germany. Italy nodded and watched him. The broken piece Germany was referring to was a long, cylinder-looking thing, that actually looked a bit erotic if your mind is in the right gutter at the right time. Italy tilted his head a bit. His mind was definitely in the right gutter at the right time. Germany grasped the part with both hands and attempted to pull it out.

"Hm… it's a bit hard…" stated Germany. He wiped sweat off his forehead with his arm and tried again, with no avail. "It look's like it's stuck. I'm going to have to pull harder, maybe put some lubricant on it." Italy half-smiled when Germany said "lubricant". The man was practically shoving the Italian's mind deeper into the gutter without even realizing it. Germany tried one more time, this time with success, but apparently broke another piece off in the process, as a creamy liquid began spurting out onto Germany's face. Germany placed his hand over the piece he broke to stop it from spurting. Italy's eyes widened as he looked at Germany's face. Whatever the creamy liquid that suddenly gushed out was, it looked an awful lot like—

"Come, on!" groaned Germany, "What else is wrong with it? And what the hell is this exactly?" He covered the hole with a random piece of engine component to stop it temporarily to wipe his face with a towel. He pulled the towel away from his face and licked his lips curiously.

"This… this tastes like… pasta sauce?" he discovered. He glared at Italy who put his hands up in defense.

"There was nowhere else to put it!" admitted Italy.

"Calling you an _dummkopf_ doesn't do enough justice to what you really are." Said Germany, throwing the towel on the grass. "Now I have to find a spare for that to… and I don't even know if you messed the whole thing up by pouring pasta sauce in there… now I have to clean that whole thing off… you better hope you didn't damage it." Italy laughed sheepishly as Germany started working under the hood again.

The big German was working hard under the sun, Italy could tell, as he began watching beads of sweat roll from Germany's chin, down his neck, and eventually under the shirt. He decided to go inside his home and fix a cold drink for the hard working German.

_It's'a the least I could do. _

Italy returned outside with a tray of two cold drinks.

"It's'a hot isn't it, Germany? Would you like a cold beverage?" offered Italy. Germany glanced at him and said, "Sure, that'd be nice." Germany took a beverage off the tray and drank it all in two seconds, while Italy leisurely drank his via a bendy straw. Germany placed the now empty beverage back on the tray and told Italy he'd have to come back tomorrow, for he has a spare part essential to the car at home and can't do much without it.

"I'll be back tomorrow by noon." Informed Germany, putting his tools back in his box. Italy silently began to panic. He didn't want Germany to leave yet, no. He was having such a good time with his mind in the gutter and Germany sweating everywhere, he didn't want it to end yet.

"W-wait!" cried Italy, "I-I saw something leaking over here! I think something else is broken!" Italy pointed to the back of the car. Germany set his tools down and walked over to the back to look at Italy's fake accusation.

"Where? I don't see anything." Said Germany.

"Y-you have to get on your knees… to see it."

Germany got on his knees and peered below the car. Without thinking, Italy grabbed the container of motor oil that was on the roof of the car, splashed it on Germany's back, quickly threw it to the side, took a couple steps back and put on the best surprised face he had… all in under two seconds.

"WHAT the hell just happened?" cried Germany, getting up.

"The-the-the… motor oil just… fell off the roof of the car… it was open so it spilled all over you…" explained Italy. Germany groaned loudly and removed his gloves.

"Y-you're going to have to take off your shirt, Germany!" Italy added with dark intentions, "You got motor oil aaaaalll over your shirt!"

"Christ…" the German muttered as he pulled his shirt off. Italy smiled proudly at his dirty thoughts. Let's just say Italy's mind was so deep in the gutter it is possible that is has burrowed under the earth and made its way to China.

"Oh no, Germany…" cooed Italy, "You got some on your body, too! You'll have to take a shower! Motor oil isn't good for the skin."

"Take a shower where, hmm?" said Germany irritatingly.

"You could shower at my house! Of course, it's the least I could do… you helping me with my car and all!" suggested Italy.

"Well fine." Sighed Germany, "Direct me to your bathroom."

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><p>"…Why is everything made out of dried pasta?" exclaimed Germany, looking around Italy's home.<p>

"Oh, you know me!" laughed Italy. Suddenly, the phone rang. Italy picked up the phone that was also made out of dried pasta noodles.

"Si? M-hm? Okay!" said Italy, hanging up the phone.

"Who was that?" asked Germany.

"No one you need to worry about!" said Italy with a dark smile. Germany, a little freaked out, nonetheless followed Italy into the bathroom.

"Here it is! Enjoy!" exclaimed Italy, "Call me if you need anything! Like towels! Or shampoo! Or scrubbing!"

"Um… thanks…" muttered Germany, a little disturbed. Italy exited the bathroom and Germany commenced the shower.

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><p>Italy was sitting on a sofa made out of dried-pasta noodles in his pasta adorned living room when Germany came out of bathroom, fully clothed and clean.<p>

"I had to borrow one of your shirts… they're kinda tight, but it'll do." Said Germany.

"Ah! No problem! That's fine! You could even keep the shirt! You know, as a keepsake? A memento? Of this great day, 'cuz we had a lot of fun, Germany! I had a lot of fun…"

"Um… I'll just return it to you tomorrow." Said Germany. "But for now, I have to go. I'll be back tomorrow, and hopefully I'll be able to fix it then." Germany said his good-byes, and left. Once Italy was sure Germany was out of sight, he went to his front yard with a hammer, and whacked off the left mirror f the car, crushed the headlights, and broke one of the side windows. Germany will be back tomorrow, and the next day, with newer problems, making him come back again and again, till Italy can't find anything else to break in the car. Till then, this car ain't ever getting fixed.


End file.
